Everyone Has Their Own Hobbies
by ChocolateCherryGenesis
Summary: Everyone has their own hobbies. It's just that Harry Potter's hobbies include catching Death Eaters by trapping them in goo while throwing things from rooftops. But compared to the hobbies of his other acquaintances, it's not that strange, really. After all, all he wanted to do was eat his ice cream in peace . . .
1. Harry Potter and the Death Eaters

**Story** : Everyone Has Their Own Hobbies

**Disclaimer** : I don't own _Harry Potter_.

**Author** : CCGenesis

**Summary** : Everyone has their own hobbies. It's just that Harry Potter's hobbies include catching Death Eaters by trapping them in goo while throwing things from rooftops. But compared to the hobbies of his other acquaintances, it's not _that_ strange, really. After all, all he wanted to do was eat his ice cream in peace . . .

**Written** : March 19, 2011

**Rewritten** : Sunday, May 20, 2012

**Published** : Friday, June 1, 2012

**Author's** **Note** : I wrote this a long time ago, and I hope you enjoy. Planning on published other chapters soon! Next: Hermione Granger and SPEW! If you have an idea, please review. I'll see what I can do. Already published on CartoonDollEmporium because I was bored and playing with my little sister on there.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Harry Potter Versus Death Eaters

* * *

_And all Harry wanted to do was enjoy his strawberry ice cream . . ._

* * *

Harry Potter sat calmly at a table directly outside of Diagon Alley's ice cream parlor. He didn't seem to notice as everyone ran away from a group of terrifying Death Eaters - he simply ate his strawberry ice cream as a slow, relaxed pace.

Eventually, he stood up with a stretch and sighed. "What idiots . . ."

In a blur of motion, Harry Potter jumped up, clinging to a nearby wall and flying upwards to land on the roof.

He froze and felt the wind direction, remaining completely still. He then peered downwards, holding his hand in front of his face with his thumb upwards, closing one eye as he lined up his thumb with the Death Eaters. He stuck out his tongue in concentration, before nodding his head sharply.

He took something from his backpack, fiddled with it while still in the bag, and then quickly threw it at the Death Eaters with perfect, professional, concentrated targeting .

His former frown disappeared, before it turned into a smirking grin. "Watch out below," He mumbled. He closed his eyes and tilted his head upward, listening closely with glee.

_Three . . . Two . . . One . . ._

"Boom!" Harry shouted happily, making his hand into a gun and pointing it in the Death Eaters' direction, pulling the imaginary 'trigger'.

Suddenly a large explosion filled the alley, going upwards.

Harry grinned again as he received an excellent idea. "Rapid fire!" He shouted.

BOOM! BOOM! BA-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM! BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Harry looked around, shielding his eyes from the sun. The Death Eaters - and, for that matter, the entire Alley - was covered in goop, no object able to move from the sticky substance and the Death Eaters therefore unable to cast spells.

"Aw, they're all gone . . ." Harry said sorrowfully.


	2. Hermione Granger and the House Elves

**Story** : Everyone Has Their Own Hobbies

**Disclaimer** : I don't own _Harry Potter_. Obviously.

**Author** : ChocolateCherryGenesis

**Published** : Saturday, September 29, 2012

**Notes** : Well, I was bored, this was already mostly done, so I finished it and published it. Well, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Hermione Granger vs House Elves

* * *

_Hermione was usually a very quiet and proper young lady. When House Elves are involved, however . . ._

* * *

Hermione Granger sat in the middle of the Hogwarts kitchen, filled with pleasant smells and even more pleasant food. However, Hermione Granger wasn't enjoying any of this at that particular moment.

The bushy-haired girl took a deep breath, before smiling widely. "Okay, let's try that again," she said to her audience of ten nervous-looking House Elves. "Repeat after me: 'I want to be free'."

The House Elves scrunched up their faces, trying to say the words exactly as the strange girl who kept visiting them in the kitchens and leaving socks and hats everywhere in her common room said them. "I . . ." they chorused.

Hermione faced brightened considerably, beaming like the very sun itself. "Good, good!" Hermione said, clapping her hands together in excitement.

"I wants to serves the studentses of Hoggywarts!" they chorused proudly.

Hermione fell to the ground in horror, crying out great tears of despair, the very air around her dark with failure. "The elves . . . just won't say anything right! I don't even know if they're doing it on purpose or not!" she sobbed.

The House Elves shrugged and went back to work, still unable to understand this crazy human student who insisted on visiting them daily and saying silly things. _Wear real clothes? Indeed!_ they thought, shaking their heads at the strange notion.

At that moment, the hidden picture that lead to the kitchens swung open, her best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley entering the kitchen while talking to each other about Quidditch.

Hermione ran over to them at an inhuman speed, grasping their hands and pulling them further into the kitchen, hoping to get any help at all to get the idea of "freedom" into the heads of these elves. _Yes! Yes! Perhaps information from multiple sources would be more memorable! _she thought in desperate madness.

Harry turned to Ron, questioning the redhead if he knew what they were about to be subjected to. Ron shook his head in confusion, just as much in the dark as his best friend. They both then turned to Hermione, seeing her hair––frizzier than normal––and her eyes––crazier than normal––fixed upon a particular group of House Elves who had just started getting to work as the pair entered the kitchen innocently for an afternoon snack.

Seeing as Hermione was surely about to do something incredibly stupid, Ron and Harry returned to the only option they felt they had––"_Stupefy_!" they cast the Stunning Spell, a red jet of light flowing toward Hermione and taking her down.

Having been subjected to Hermione in one of her House Elf Rampages before––as Ron and Harry titled them––they were smart enough to cast two Stunners at the girl instead of the usual singular spell.

It took a few moments, even with two Stunners, for Hermione to drop to the floor.

Harry and Ron waited a moment, before sighing with relief.

"What do you think that was about, Harry?" Ron asked. "I know that females are weird, but Hermione takes it to the next level! _Women_! Really!"

Harry shook his head. "I know, Ron. D'you think we should bring her to the Infirmary?"

"No," Ron said, sighing. "We best bring her to Professor Dumbledore instead. After all, it is _Hermione_ we're talking about. She could probably duel circles around us if she tried to."

Harry nodded in agreement. "You go ahead and lift the legs, I'll get her feet," he said, preparing to lift Hermione and carry her to the Headmaster's Office.

Even the Boy-Who-Lived didn't have a chance against a SPEW rant without a sneak attack. Heroes must occasionally be realistic.

* * *

_ To Be Continued . . ._

_ Please Review_


	3. Ronald Weasley and the Cannons

**Story**: Everyone Has Their Own Hobbies

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Harry Potter._

**Author**: ChocolateCherryGenesis

**Published**: Saturday, April 20, 2013

**Notes**: I didn't have anything better to do, so I wrote another short chapter of this. This is definitely one of my relaxing stories (to write, at least) where I have nothing planned and I just write whatever comes to mind without the fear of destroying any attempt at story continuity for my other stories. Probably some errors in here, didn't do much editing. Well, enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Ron Weasley and the Cannons

* * *

_Sometimes, Ron Weasely wonders why he even bothers with the Chudley Cannons . . ._

* * *

A redheaded boy about to start his fourth year of Hogwarts sat close to the Wizarding Wireless radio, ear almost pressed to the box. He was comfortably arranged on his living room armchair, holding a Chudley Cannons pennant in his hand and wearing a Chudley Cannons hat on his head.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Ron exclaimed, stomping his feet. "Just one game! Just one!"

_"The game is currently in the Cannons' favor, 210 to 60. The Cannons' seeker has broken her arm and is currently unavailable to continue the game. Since the snitch is worth one hundred and fifty points, we are currently in a situation where one more goal by the Cannons before the snitch is found will win them the game!"_

"Do it! One more goal! Finally, finally!" Ron exclaimed, bouncing in the armchair.

_"And Emma Rockwell of the Cannons has the Quaffle!"_ the radio screamed. _"She goes around Gregory of the Snipes! She's coming close to the hoops! She shoots! The Snipes' Keeper is too far away to block the shot! She's going to score! Will the Cannons finally win the first game in over twenty years?!"_ the announcer shouted.

At this point, Ron had jumped up off the armchair and was dancing around the room, twirling his pendant around and around. "Yes! _Yes_! We've _finally_ won! WOOOOOO!"

_"Will the shot enter the hoop?!"_ the announcer questioned, sounding like he was half hysterical.

"We won, we won!" Ron chanted, calling up the stairs. "Did you hear that? The Cannons are about to win!"

As the Weasely family stempeded down the stairs, the announcer said. _". . . Oh, sorry, folks––the Snipes have blocked the shot, recovered the quaffle, gained one more goal, found the snitch, and the game is **over**. The Snipes have won the game 220 to 210."_

"Oh, c'mon!" Ron shouted, shaking the Wizarding Wireless set. "You can't be serious!"

_"Once again, the Cannons have added another game to their losing streak spanning over two decades. This is Andy Short, on the Wizarding Wireless. __Goodbye and farewell, folks.__"_

"AAARG!"

"Sorry, Ronikins, but that's life," one of the twins said.

The other twin patted Ron's shoulder, "It's been twenty years, Ronny. The Cannons just can't win at Quittich."

Percy frowned. "The odds are a million-to-one that their losing streak can continue. It's just impossible to lose that many games naturally, no matter how bad the team. I have concluded that Voldemort must have followed Quittich and must have cursed the Cannons after winning against the Whirlwinds in the World Championship of '43. Just like the DADA position can never be filled, the Cannons can never win a game of Quittich again. I am sorry, Ronald."

"AAARG!"

"Hey, it could be worse," Bill said, shrugging. He pulled the newspaper off of the side table and fell onto the couch. "Just imagine if Voldemort had cursed the Cannons to never make a goal. Then they'd be _really_ pitiful."

"Or what if Voldemort had cursed the Cannons to be eaten by a Hungarian Horntail? That would not have been pretty," Charlie said. "Interesting, but not pretty."

"Oh, yeah," Ginny said. "Why are you in Britain, Charlie? I know that dad got us tickets to the World Championship, but you said you were going to be here until at least Christmas before you had to return to the dragon reserve."

"Um, I can't really say," Charlie said.

Ginny frowned and crossed her arms. "Whatever."

"AAARG!"

"That's enough of that, Ronald," Molly Weasley said. "There is no screaming at the unfairness of life in the living room. Remove yourself to the garden if you wish to mourn the Cannons' loss."

"So, Charlie, I'm looking forward to the you-know-what the Ministry has arranged this year," Arthur Weasley said.

Charlie straightened out his newspaper. "Yep. Finally, us dragon handlers get to show off our stuff."

"I'm sure it is going to be very impressive," Arthur Weasley said.

"AAARG!"


End file.
